


Nice While it Lasts

by Michichi69



Series: The Lonely People [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Adoption, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Parenting, Cigarettes, Depression, Discussion of Abortion, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, FACE Family, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Postpartum Depression, References to Depression, Teen Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29557542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michichi69/pseuds/Michichi69
Summary: As Alice reconciles with her mother's death, she must reconcile with her own motherhood.Oneshot for "All the Lonely People" human AU
Relationships: America & Canada & England & France (Hetalia), America & England (Hetalia), America & France (Hetalia), Canada & England (Hetalia), Canada & France (Hetalia), England/France (Hetalia), Female England/France (Hetalia)
Series: The Lonely People [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171538
Kudos: 6





	Nice While it Lasts

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of a series I'm currently rewriting. There will be a FACE oriented multi-chapter out there after I start posting "All the Lonely People" again after some vigorous rewrites. For now, there is a one-shot that will be from the perspective of Alice as it will be the only POV of hers from this universe I suppose. 
> 
> Otherwise, this is perfectly fine to read as a standalone, it will just make more sense when the rest of it is out in the ether. Enjoy. :)

Alice was happy to leave America, even just for a couple of weeks. It would never be the same as being home, but she knew the logic behind it was something unignorable albeit frustrating. If it weren’t for _les_ _années folles_ then her life would’ve been much easier. She never would’ve spoken French on her wedding day, she would have her own family, she wouldn’t feel like an imposter amongst her own children. The worst thing in her old life she would have to endure for the day would be which dress to wear in the morning and that would be the end of it.

Now, dressed in black, the morning before the funeral, she decided it would be best to at the very least accept the invitation to visit her dear old mother. Many times she _dreamed_ of this, but now all that could comfort her was a glass of gin and a half-spent cigarette. Partly the lie she told herself, a death in the family that abandoned her wasn’t any excuse for such habits, she did that every day without that incentive and despite how much it annoyed her that was something Francis understood well enough to take Alfred off her hands just so she could indulge as much as she wanted without shocking the child to death. No boy had to see the state she would be in by the end of the week.

In the letter she had received, it told her that she wouldn’t even be allowed to talk to anybody there lest people ask questions. Alice Kirkland had died, despite the desperate efforts of her family, throwing their wealth for the most expensive doctors and treatments. All in vain of course. Officially, complications from tuberculosis were what took her.

_What a load of shit_. It was the first thing that came to mind. Even in death, her parents still came out looking their best. The truth would make them look too unforgiving though, bad parents one might say. In her greatest time of need, they ended up tossing her aside.

* * *

“We will deal with this.” She knew what they meant would not be the way she wished this would be dealt with. Expecting disappointment was one thing but expecting complete isolation was another, she had been prepared for both but had at least hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

“What is it you suggest?” The palms of her hands beaded with sweat, her extremities turning cold at the thoughts rushing through her head.

“I suggest we make this as discreet as possible; we will take you to a doctor.” Scoffing, she found that idea to be the worst of them all.

“You aim to kill me, mother? I’m bloody terrified as is without worrying about death.”

“Then what do you want me to do about this?!” Her mother snapped, giving her a firm slap to the face. Whether it was intentional or not, her hand struck closer to her ear than her cheek, a short ringing filling her head while she listened to her continued her lecture. “You dare use that vile language when you’re the one who put me in this situation!” Rubbing her face, Alice could barely feel it in her to be snarky back. Instead, just how dire this _situation_ was had been mounting on her for some time. Enough for her to be hiding it for too long.

“I wasn’t the only one so don’t act like its all by my own fault.” Laced with sadness, she couldn’t help but want some kind of comfort.

“Who? When?” The inquisition started but she struggled to give her the answer. “ _Alice_ -”

* * *

“Alice.” Someone said beside her, quietly. She barely recognised him; she hadn’t seen him in so long that he had grown up without her around. Out of all of her extended family, he was the one she took to the most. It was unfortunate they didn’t see each other since that awful time because now instead of warmth, she thought of him as a stranger.

“Talking to an old dead hag, Daniel?” It felt right to smoke outside the small church in the middle of her mother’s hometown. She had been the one to tell her how unladylike it was to take up, now there was no reason to abide by that anymore, she didn’t care if it made Daniel grimace. “Why did you tell me?”

“She’s your mother. It’s only right you know,” She supposed it wouldn’t be right to argue with that logic. Most people would want to know that, it was just unfortunate that this time it was wrong. “She wanted you to come. Where’s the child?” She shook her head.

“Barely a child anymore,” She corrected. “Depending on which one you’re talking about.” She had some doubts that Alfred would ever grow up – Boys didn’t grow up.

“Which one?” He laughed. “You’ve been busy, but not what I asked. Your mother specifically asked you to bring them. As many as there may be.”

“Unfortunate she couldn’t die a couple of months earlier, Alfred wanted to stay with Francis for his show…” The look of disapproval on his face as she said this told her just how insensitive it might have sounded to people who weren’t there. The ones who used to care for her but now couldn’t fathom her dear mother being the one who ruined everything for her. “He didn’t know her. I won’t ask him to cry for a stranger.”

“What about the other ones?” _Ones_. Great, she bet he was imagining double digits right now when she was barely okay with just the two.

“I didn’t bother to ask Francis.” She felt strangled just standing beside him. If she were to be honest, she sometimes forgot about having another and if she didn’t know any better, she would think Francis was the one to carry her around for nine months with how attached the girl was to him instead. It was easier to think of it that way.

“Well… I suppose it’s nice to see you again at least. Would’ve liked to see the little ones.” She shook her head.

“It’s probably better you don’t. I want to keep them away from this. It complicates everything,” It wasn’t like she had never considered trying. There had been many times she wanted to call or send a letter just to ask if at the very least they get to have grandparents, uncles, aunts, everything most families had. “How many know about them?”

“I do… I think Alistair and Ciarán tried to act like they didn’t give a damn, but I know they didn’t believe you had passed. I don’t really know how much they know about it,” Daniel shrugged, it was hard not to feel anything. Even if they were a right pain in her arse the mind couldn’t help but turn to fond memories whenever she thought of them. “I think they’d be at the pub by now – If they weren’t, I’d assume something were wrong with them. You want to come?”

She may have considered it, “No, I want to pretend I wasn’t here.” But it would set her back.

* * *

It was an unbearable sadness for a girl. She supposed the cut had been made because she would no longer be considered that – A _girl_. But that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like one, it didn’t matter how many times her mother referred to her as a young woman now, she still _needed_ her even if it was a stupid mistake she went off and made.

“ _Ma chérie_ -“ He reached out to her but she moved her hand to avoid him.

“I don’t want to listen to that damn language.” She interrupted, too grounded in reality when she heard Francis. What once felt warm just burned her now.

“Don’t you think you should eat something?” She shook her head. “I worry too, you aren’t the only one,” His worries were focused elsewhere. On things like how strong the babe would be if she was so unhappy, putting too much strain on herself, not eating enough – there were too many things to keep track of. Instead of worrying about that, she wondered what would come after or if it would just be easier to just take the risk, call her mother and go back to the way it was with one procedure. “ _Ma chéri_ -“

Snapping, she snatched his wine glass to force the wine down her throat. Wiping her mouth, she slammed the glass on the table. “There – I chewed on your damn grapes, now leave me be.” The sound of his chair scraped across the floorboards.

“I will not leave you be when you’re acting so reckless. You get _one chance_ of this!” She shook her head while he held a finger up in the air to emphasise his point.

“I can have more – I can give this one away. It’s not like children are permanent, God knows _I_ wasn’t permanent if I’m dead to the lot of them!” Perhaps it was even worse since she had spent a little over sixteen years with them before she was disposed of once she became damaged goods. “As if you would know, I’m sure mummy and daddy loved you plenty.”

“It’s not about me,” She crossed her arms, sceptical. “We must _try_. Try to remember the good that’s here already,” Yes, there had to be something good that was here if she was even here in the first place. There had to be something. It was just unfortunate that the timing was so awful. “And when things go wrong, make it right.” Staring at each other, Alice couldn’t help but scoff. He was flowery at heart, never quite grounded in reality.

“The _right_ thing would be to get this parasite out as fast as possible, leave you to go on with your life in New York while I have my old one.” Even now it was hard to say that – But she had to be honest or at least what she interpreted as her feelings on the matter.

“But you didn’t. You didn’t take her offer; you chose a new life instead… I don’t think you could bear the alternative. I wouldn’t be able to either.” Alice opened her mouth to respond with something. _Anything_. But instead, she couldn’t retort without lying. It was simply the conflict, the way she just wanted to have her cake and eat it too. To have the family she had always had and the family she could create for herself.

“Just leave me alone for a while. I need to rest.” She excused herself, it was easier to avoid than to consider the possibility that she cared too much.

* * *

When she made it back to her room, it hit her just how quiet it was. Usually, Alfred was shouting about how hungry he is, no matter how much she tried he didn’t understand the concept of an inside voice. It wasn’t permissible to smoke inside the rooms but that wasn’t going to stop her when she already felt her nerves coming up to her throat.

Goddamn it all to hell, she wasn’t supposed to be nervous to call her own children.

Twice now she had picked up the phone before setting it down again, thinking of how she would sound. It couldn’t be too obvious that she didn’t know how to talk to Alfred, or what to do if Francis picked up instead. Never did she call him unless it was related to the children and every time it was messy. Sometimes it was hard to imagine things any different.

Finally, though, she managed, waiting for the call to go through. Like second nature, she rattled off the details to the unknowing operator as she tried to calm her nerves lest she abandon the call.

“Hello?” She sighed, hearing a young woman’s voice she had never heard before. She was really going to give Francis and earful – It was an established rule that no strange _partnerships_ were allowed with the kids.

“Hello, who is this?” Irritation laced her voice.

“It’s Marguerite…” Her back straightened as she realised her mistake.

“Oh!” She exclaimed anxiously coming up with an excuse. The poor thing sounded heartbroken. “You just sound so… Grown up – Over the phone,” She sighed. “Can you put your brother on the line?” A muffled sound could be heard, what to Marguerite would be her loudest voice was nothing but a squeak of a mouse to most. It was thoroughly frustrating to hear in comparison to what she dealt with on a daily basis, screaming, yelling, booming – That was what described Alfred’s _inside_ voice which she had hoped would go with age. She was wrong.

“Hey, I’m busy,” Alfred said, interrupting her thoughts. “Whad’ya want?”

“That’s not polite,” She scowled before realising now wasn’t supposed to be the time for lectures. Maybe she could say she raised him better but to tell the truth she really hadn’t, most of the work she had done had just started after years of spoiling him rotten. “I think we should try to talk more; I’ll be gone longer than what you’d be used to. Don’t you miss me?” He hummed, distracted for a while before he answered.

“ _Hmm_. No, not really,” He said indifferently but to her, it left her stricken by grief. “I’m not as hungry here.”

“Don’t say that!” She hissed, unable to control her temper for another second. “For goodness sake, that sounds like I don’t ever feed you – You’ll make me look like a terrible mother!” It wasn’t like the school didn’t already think that since his big mouth had gotten her in trouble more than once, asking if she needed assistance. _Assistance_. All because apparently the damn terror had complained about going hungry more than once, but she had to set them straight for good – She was not poor and she certainly wasn’t _neglectful_ , if anything she had made the kid sick of her presence.

“I can’t help it if your dinners are no good,” He deadpanned. “And New York is pretty neat.”

She scoffed, “Alright then, what have you seen in New York?” She didn’t hear a response. “ _Alfred_?”

He seemed quick to get back on the call after who knows what took his attention away, “I dunno… Dad gives me things – And I guess he got me a milkshake and took me to see liberty- Can I go now?” The rushed way he tied up the call made her sigh.

“Fine. You can go. But-” Her lips tensed in a thin line before the line went dead. “Why doesn’t he hang up any faster?” She mumbled, dropping the phone back down to stare at, hand under her chin. It all felt rather grim, thinking it would go better in her head. It so often did end up being better in her head.

* * *

“You’ve done so well, _ma chérie_.” It didn’t feel like it. It felt like she was one foot in death’s door but she supposed there would be a lot more problems if that were the case, for one she was conscious and secondly she had the strength to push Francis’ scratchy face away.

“Can we go home?” She said breathlessly. There wasn’t enough air in her lungs to be firm or demanding like she wanted to sound.

“Don’t you want to see him?” She shook her head, waving her hand.

“You can do what you want,” Francis frowned but still seemed motivated to continue on without her, happy to wait for the nurse. “God, babies are such ugly things anyway.”

“Oh quiet, you haven’t even seen _this_ little one yet.” Somehow, she doubted her opinion would change at the mere sight of a child that she had yet to feel was real yet.

“He felt fat,” She grimaced. “I would prefer to be in my own bed right now.” And less drenched in sweat at that.

“So grim, you can survive a few nights here,” He teased but she could think about nothing worse than spending time in an American hospital. “You always talk about stiff upper lips yet yours is downturned more than anyone’s.” Groaning, she made an attempt to sit upright before hissing from the pain in her lower back.

“I’d like to call my mother. Tell her it’s done.” Ignoring her, Francis outstretched his hands. Naturally, her eyes darted to the young woman with a bundle in her arms, ready to hand to her. When Alice didn’t openly take him, Francis was quick to butt in and take him off the nurse’s hands instead.

“Oh, he’s so clean now,” Rolling her eyes, she looked to the nurse with a curt nod. “Have you thought of a name, Alice?”

“You can’t name things you’re going to give away.” She retorted.

“Just look at him, just one look,” He nudged her with an elbow. “You were right about babies being ugly but I’m sure he’ll grow into someone as good looking as myself.”

“For the love of-“

“Excuse me?” They turned their attention to the young woman who seemed rather awkward interrupting their little spat.

Francis frowned, “Yes?”

“Do you two need more time?” The nurse asked. “It’s important we make the process fast.” Francis answered for her, again.

“Just give us one second,” He leaned over and whispered to her. “Alice, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Of course I do,” She furrowed her brows. “You can’t be backing down now.”

“I know, I know but…” Biting a lip, Francis struggled to find what to say to her, no doubt trying to change her mind for the umpteenth time. “I’ll take him, you can go home.”

“What?” Alice shot straight up, cringing at the pain. “When did you decide this?”

“Right now. I fear I can’t put him down with the thought I’ll never hold him like this again…” Suddenly, a quiet rage that had been bubbling over time had come to the surface.

“This is why I told you not to do this – You get attached too easily and then you can’t let it go.”

“He is not just an _it_.”

“ _Ah,_ Mr.B-“

“ _Un moment_ ,” He interrupted firmly. “Alice. We need more time.” Biting her tongue, she refused to have an outburst in front of a stranger and child, it would be nothing short of embarrassing. But this was embarrassing enough as is, as if she hadn’t even thought about such a decision the entire time, as if she were unprepared, as if she was stupid. She was not stupid, she knew what she wanted – But it was obvious Francis didn’t understand because while he may have just come to the decision in this moment, she had been thinking this over since day one.

She would just have to prove him wrong. This would be a mistake.

“Then we shall take him home,” She glanced at the confused pretty young thing. What she’d do to be like that again. “Just don’t bother me – I need my rest.”

* * *

The phone rang, cutting through her rather depressing night. She hadn’t been so alone in a long time, she thought it would be the same bliss as before but now she rushed to the nightstand just to hear someone. Even if that someone was someone like Francis.

“Did I catch you at a good time?” He asked, somehow, she knew that he was making a vile attempt to jab at her – It was never a good time if she was within the radius of scotch.

“Oh shut up,” Snapped through the line. “What ninny let you through to my room?” She groaned, wiping a stay hair from her forehead. “Oh, never mind, get on with it.”

“I just wanted to see how your day was.” A deep frown tore through her features.

“ _Splendid_ , I just loved attending the funeral of my beloved mother – How do you think I would respond to such a ridiculous question?”

“ _Hm_ , I hardly thought you found her beloved.” Her lips twitched with a strange solemness.

“She was a witch but…” Straightening her back, she took in a deep breath. “Well? Is that all?” Honestly, she hoped it would be. It felt off to have Francis seem so caring, ask about her for once.

“I wondered if you needed any money.” But it always had to end, all the nice feeling from a one-off interaction.

“Of course,” She scoffed. “ _No_ , I don’t. Is it something Alfred said?”

“You didn’t exactly teach him to lie. You’re quite bad at it yourself…” The mockery, the disrespect. It was something that she had been conditioned to reject but right now all it seemed to manage to do was humiliate her. “I’ve heard Alfred has gotten quite good at picking dandelions-”

“ _And yet somehow I manage to burn them_? Predictable. Now fuck off,” The ping of the telephone hitting the hook rang through her head for a few moments. The frustration had managed to reduce her to tears, perhaps some of the alcohol also to blame. “Bloody hell.” She hissed, the aggression directed more at herself than Francis for reacting in such a way. As quick as the tears came, she wiped them away just so he didn’t prove himself right by doing this, even if he couldn’t see it. It was no wonder Alfred could sometimes be so stubborn, he was just matching her.

* * *

For a period of two weeks, she hadn’t had another place to put him. It didn’t matter much anyway, Alfred hadn’t even a clue that he had been sleeping in the drawer that used to house her intimates, now relegated to a box under the bed. It wasn’t like they had been planning to keep him and it was strange to see him still, to know that he was real and hers. The whole nine months she had thought of him as someone else’s but now she was forced to reckon with the fact the only family member she had been in contact with since this had begun was right in front of her, and perhaps he would be the only family she would know forever now that he was here for good although she scoffed at the thought. He was a stranger to her and now she was expected to love him like he was a part of her, the closest she had gotten to bonding was feeding him and even then, he would scream when she didn’t allow him to suckle her teat dry.

Sometimes she would stare at him and overthink talking to him. He didn’t like her, and she didn’t particularly like him but somehow, she still managed to care about her image in front of a child that couldn’t even roll over yet. Despite how adamant Francis had seemed to keep him, he hadn’t been particularly present either, going about life as if he hadn’t begged her to keep him like he were a puppy. It was just now that she realised it was nothing short of a mistake to roll over and agree, this was no puppy. At least puppies loved you unconditionally.

She sighed in exasperation fussing over cleanliness to avoid the responsibility right in front of her. Dishes, laundry and dusting could wait but confronting _him_ was something else entirely that she didn’t have the strength to deal with on most days. She just knew there had to be a point it had to change.

“I suppose I should try to make friends…” She muttered, glancing to Alfred whose beady little eyes did nothing but stare. It felt like the same judgement she felt from adults but even she had to scold herself for projecting. “Are you going to be a friend to me?” Her question felt strange to ask a baby who didn’t even have the ability to talk but he made his point clear by turning red in the face. “ _God_ , what is it now?” She hated how whiney she sounded, no better than a child although she supposed she wasn’t far from a child herself her pride came above that rationale.

Hungry? Tired? Dirty? Whatever it was, nothing seemed to work. She had heard that a mother knows but that only made her believe she wasn’t meant to be one if she was so ineffective.

Awkwardly, she picked him up from the drawer placed on the coffee table, hearing his cries stop when she tapped him on the back, “Of course, you wanted attention? I knew that…” She sighed, relieved that it had finally ended for once. “Bloody hell, you’re heavy.” But she knew even if her arms were to tire, she would force herself to endure it over the sounds of wailing.

Taking a seat at her favourite chair, she was careful not to stir him. Suddenly, this boring little, unbearably _loud_ apartment was much more interesting than she had once thought. Fussing, Alfred had decided it wasn’t _enough_ attention despite her comforting taps and bounces. It wasn’t enough and she was starting to realise she would never be enough.

“Just you wait until Francis is home, you’ll be all smiles then, wouldn’t you?” She scowled. “You like making me look crazy and you can’t even speak…” Even if Alfred wasn’t as loud as a siren now, just the idea that he was unsatisfied with her care by writhing around as much as possible, huffing and puffing as much as a newborn could, it was a slap of reality.

Glancing at the time on the grandfather clock, she thought it couldn’t hurt to get away from it all for a short while. Maybe she could feel a little more like herself unlike this imposter – A _mother_.

* * *

“Allie?” She refused to turn around, hearing that voice was torture. “You look too much like your mam to freeze on me.”

Sighing more out of annoyance than anything else, she gave in, “What do you want Allister?”

“Dan told me you holed up in your room instead of coming here with us – I never knew you to refuse a drink before.” He sat beside her at the bar with a smirk on his face.

“I didn’t – I just decided I wanted to be alone after an eventful day.”

“You drank at the inn’s watering hole? I’m guessing you’re living comfortably.” No, despite her expensive clothes, she was living less than comfortably but she nodded anyway.

“As comfortable as I could be…” She noted his staring, the ring she kept on her finger as she slid her left hand out of sight, under her other arm.

“Heard you met a Frenchman… A rich one?” She rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not pulling your leg – Just curious.”

“You’re never _just_ curious. What do you want from me? Money?” He shrugged.

“You could start with a pint,” The grin on his face widened when he saw her pull out some cash. She was by no means rich, despite what he may think but she hated to admit she was too lonely to refuse some human interaction. It felt normal to have a drink with someone else for once, something that most people did instead of wasting away all on their lonesome. “I knew you’d do well for yourself.” He really didn’t understand. She placed the money on the counter, holding up the bartender to order from the tap.

“I wasn’t alone... Mostly,” She said lethargically, the memory of that time was not kind to her and she disliked that she dwelled on it so often. At night on the cusp of sleep usually. “Francis – I have to give him some credit I suppose.”

Allister leaned so far back she thought he would promptly fall from the stool, “Francis from France. I never had a name for him.”

“Right, I doubted mother was advertising the details.” She frowned deeply as Allister got his drink. He ignored her for a brief moment to take a sip or two, or three from his glass before wiping his mouth.

“ _Aye_ , but I knew enough to know you hadn’t gone off and died – We weren’t idiots.”

Scoffing, she shook her head in disbelief, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Aye, but I’m not the one who ended up in the pudding club.” She shot him a glare.

“None of you ever gave me sympathy for anything that happened, maybe its why I’m regretting sitting next to you right now.” The coolness in her tone seemed to give Allister some idea of how close he was to being walked out on. She wouldn’t have been surprised at all if he didn’t care, it didn’t seem like he showed anything of the sort for her.

“I guess I can see it all over your face…” He leaned on his hand, getting a good look at her. “You always looked older than you were, you were a right little shite.”

“How kind.” She said sarcastically. Allister held up a finger.

“ _But_ not like this,” A genuine sense of concern in his voice. “I think-“

“I don’t care what you think. I haven’t for however many years – I don’t care,” It felt good to snap at him, even if she knew she would think about this exact moment with regret later. That maybe the one last chance to reconnect had been ruined for good – At least it would be ruined by her on her own will rather than accounted for by another. “I hated what you all did to me. I thought that at least someone would have enough of a spine to stick up for me but instead, you leered at a scared little girl. What _great_ men I’ve had the honour to know.” Contempt rolled off the tongue easily for her, but Allister did little to show any shock if there were any.

“You’ve handled it, you’re here after all not a lot of people could say that.” But she wished he had just said nothing instead.

“What bullshit – Utterly bullshit,” She slammed a fist on the counter, struggling to contain her rage. “You act like I had a choice; I was _robbed_ by all of you. I look at Alfred every day and have that guilt on my mind that I shouldn’t be burdened with in the first place so piss off with your excuses for how horrible you all were,” She didn’t give him the chance to utter another piss poor excuse or apology, although, she severely doubted she’d hear the latter even once from any of them. “I’ll never forgive you. Any of you.”

That was the first time she had left by her own free will. It felt good. But even she knew it was a painful process.

* * *

Montréal wasn’t so terrible, she supposed. Not that she ever really saw much of it, children needed mothers, but even now she hadn’t quite gotten used to it and despite promising things would be different with the second they only ended up getting worse. She had thought a girl would’ve been easier but somehow it just made it impossible. It was easy for her to say she _preferred_ her, she was quiet enough and didn’t fuss as often as Alfred ever did but that didn’t mean she could raise her. She could barely raise herself into adulthood and that was tooth and nails with a child as difficult as Alfred.

Unfortunately, Montréal was also the time in her life that things had to change the most. It was suffocating. It wasn’t ever going to be her life – It would be theirs. But what hurt worse was that it wouldn’t be her to realise these thoughts on her own.

“I’ll send you food, money, clothes, whatever you want,” Francis explained. “It will just be a break.”

She frowned deeper than she thought possible before but felt more than anger or sadness. Too much to express it at one time, “You were always a prick, Francis. Right from the beginning,” She glanced over at the children, totally unaware of what was happening under the same roof. “Fine, but I want them. Both of them.”

“What? No.” How simply he put it was almost as ridiculous as his proposition. Sipping his wine as if he had won already.

“Why not? This is because you want to focus on dressing young women – You probably sleep with half the models and actresses you see. Children shouldn’t be around that.”

“I’ve been loyal, even when I shouldn’t have been,” Francis pouted. “You didn’t even want them in the first place. Why should you have them?” Despite how easy that question should have been, she sputtered answering it. It took too long for her come up with something that made sense but eventually, she said-

“They’re the only family that’s been there for me.” It sounded pathetic, the way it came out was desperate. Francis seemed to think, for once and took her hand. At first, she refused but Francis persisted, grabbing it tightly a second time.

“I think you need time alone. You can’t ever be a good mother if you don’t know who you are,” She made an attempt to jerk her hand away but to no avail. “You don’t even hold Marguerite how is she supposed to know you’re her mother? And Alfred-” Using her other hand, she slapped him as hard as she could muster, managing to break away from him and rising to her feet.

“Don’t tell me what _I_ am,” She scoffed. “You made me do it all by myself, Alfred is _fine_ and so will Marguerite. You act like I’m incapable of loving my own children!” Rubbing his reddened cheek, Francis regrettably looked out of the kitchen and to Alfred, content in his own world on the floor with his toy soldiers.

“He’s slow,” Francis finished. “You don’t exactly speak to him or well, do anything with him. Don’t do something stupid out of spite.”

She stared at him, then to Alfred, she frowned, “It’s not out of a lack of trying. You don’t know half of what I do when you’re away.”

“Then you should have told me, it’s too late now.” Usually, it was his way or the highway, unfortunately, they thought similarly like that, she always wanted her way but rarely ended up getting it. Maybe this time it could be different.

“Have Marguerite but I want Alfred. Despite how much you think he hates me; a boy will always choose his mother.” But even as she said it, her heart raced with the prospect that she was wrong. That maybe Alfred truly didn’t care as much as she had grown to care for him.

* * *

It was quiet here. A vast difference from all the bustling cities Francis dragged her to, or even to all the places across the world she travelled to in her youth. Well, it was quiet without _Alfred_ around but other than that it would be quite ideal.

“Maybe next time we’ll take a plane.” She nipped him at the ears with her fingertips.

“Absolutely not, they’re cold and damp and loud, all the things I don’t wish to be amongst whilst in the sky,” Noticing the car was empty, she locked the car up changing her mindset to something slightly more optimistic. “Well, at the very least you’re civilised enough to help your old mother with her bags.” Alfred clearly didn’t see any of that as a big deal, after all, it wasn’t like he didn’t do what he could for her anyway.

Each step creaked up to the porch showing the age of such an old little house. It was a far cry from what she was used to, but it was nothing short of what she had needed all these years. But she had decided what she needed now more than anything else was a glass of gin.

Opening the door with a little struggle of the key, noting that she should replace the lock with something a little less stiff, she was quick to order Alfred around.

“Just leave the bags here, I’ll bring them up later,” Alfred obliged, dropping the bags without much care. Removing her gloves, she disapproved quietly. “What has you in such a mood?”

“Nothing, really.” She rolled her eyes, sauntering over to the living room bar to fix herself a drink.

“If it’s about the plane then I don’t want to hear a word about it. If you want to do that, get Francis to set that up for you,” When Alfred didn’t say anything, it only irritated her more. “What? Shame on me for wanting to spend a couple of days with you. I spent a week alone in black, I come back in black believing in a false sense of hope that maybe I can get out of such a dreary mindset but instead, I get here, and I might as well be wearing black because my own son doesn’t want to talk to me. My only blood anymore doesn’t want to be near me.” Pouring her gin, Alfred stood distantly while she gave him the eye.

“It’s just that Mags will be living here now, for a while… Just seems a little cramped is all.” It took some time for Alice to register but when she did, she realised she needed a lot more than gin.

“And where is it Francis wants to run off to this time?” Alfred hesitated. “Well? Spit it out.”

“Paris. He said not to tell you yet,” God, it took all it had in her not to prove him right. Her grip tightened on her glass, but she forced herself not to care. It wasn’t exactly working yet but she hoped that a little alcohol and nicotine could calm the rush that caused her hands to tremor. “Mags was excited though – She’s never been to Texas.”

“Right. I’m sure she’ll be sorely disappointed, living an opulent life in big cities.” She said, failing the mask her bitterness, taking a seat in her armchair.

“ _Hm_ , _nah_ , she said it’s too loud and stuffy.” Guilt filled her heart.

“No baseball or roughhousing. She’s a nice girl…” From the little she had seen her at least. If she were anything like she was as a baby, she would be delicate, soft, quiet. To have Alfred ruin that for her would be a damn shame. “If you’re hungry, grab something now. I’d like to be alone.”

Alfred nodded, surprisingly, he left instead of grabbing a snack – Not that they had too many of those nowadays. However, before Alice could let him leave, she just had to know one thing that had popped into her mind.

“Wait,” Alfred stopped in his tracks before he had even made it halfway up the stairs. She could hear the floorboards creak when he came back. “You won’t forget me when I’m old, right?”

“But you already _are_ old.” He grinned at his own joke, she couldn’t help but sigh, giving a terse smile before she lit another cigarette.

“I just wanted to know if I’ve done well, I suppose,” She liked to think she had done well but she could never be sure herself. Her gaze lingered on him – Almost but not quite a young man now. Soon, she would probably find out how well or poorly she had done, where she went wrong. “Alright, run along.” She waved dismissively to try and ignore any ill feelings, even while Alfred was gone, sometimes it was hard not to think about him too much.

But right now, she could forgive those mistakes while life was quiet enough not to matter, and while she had her gin and cigarettes, nothing else mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are welcome for this relatively depressing one-shot. Thank you. :)


End file.
